SUN GOD SEEKS...SURROGATE? Read online

  Soon, they would discover that Earth housed a new species of transformed humans—six of them to be exact—who drank blood and roamed the night. They would call themselves the Ancient Ones.

  Many centuries later, their folklore would state that the diminishment of the gods’ powers enabled the birth of the vampires. And that the vampires were the Creator’s punishment for the gods becoming complacent and lazy.

  But were the vampires truly a punishment?

  Kinich thought not.

  Shortly after the flash of light, Kinich came upon a pharaoh named Narmer facedown in a pool of mud, too weak to move. Narmer, who would later settle in Spain and take the name Roberto—a very long story involving another of Cimil’s scandalous plots—had no recollection of what occurred. But when Kinich carried the man to his temple, there was no mistaking the animal-like fangs protruding from his mouth. Later, the man would devour the blood of ten slaves for his supper.

  Shocked and intrigued, Kinich remained in Giza to observe the creature. He would learn what he could before returning to the gods with this startling news. This was when Narmer the Ancient One would become Kinich’s greatest teacher.

  “Life is not static, Sun God,” Narmer would say. “The universe is in a state of constant flux. Energy exchanging, transforming, and evolving from one form to the next. The apple falls from the tree. The worm eats the apple and is eaten by a bird. The bird is eaten by a cat.

  “Yes, harmony disguises itself, cloaks itself as a random event. But if one looks closely, the events occur with exquisite balance. Death, life. Struggle, abundance. Love, hate. Think of what would happen if any of these were to dominate or disappear. Even a lacking of sufficient evil might be detrimental. Humankind would grow complacent and lazy. They would cease the quest for enlightenment. Morals and spirituality would become obsolete.”

  Narmer’s words pertaining to the ebb and flow of these various forces were nothing new. But exquisite balance? This was the key.

  If the gods killed every soul with a blackened heart, then only the virtuous would remain. That would create imbalance. Imbalance would lead to destruction.

  This is why he believed the vampires were sent to restore balance, to do the dirty work the gods could not: kill humans indiscriminately, the innocent included. And the gods? Their role was to ensure the universe remained in a constant state of equilibrium.

  Sadly, however, balance would not be so easily maintained. Even the six Ancient Ones would face their own breakdown when one of Narmer’s brothers would split off and create the Obscuros—those vampires who preferred to kill innocents and only innocents. Narmer would eventually be forced to proclaim this act—one that he did not initially oppose—forbidden.

  Kinich would also face challenges. After returning to his realm, the gods did not rally behind his new philosophy. This was because they had no laws, order, or values. They were a divine, powerful group of children, but he would change that. If he were to be stuck in this…this fucking role as a god for eternity, then, by gods, he would see his sacrifice mean something.

  But that was then.

  Now?

  Now his own balance was in jeopardy. His inner demons, his buried pain for having been denied free will, it was catching up, awoken by one night with one human female—Penelope. Yes, after all these years, he once again desired freedom. To be human. To live. To die.

  But this was not his path.

  A demon to confront another day.

  Kinich, as he’d been accustomed to doing since pre-calendar, buried his torment and manned up, as modern humans liked to say.

  He glanced at Viktor who’d just made his grand appearance in Helena’s living room and nearly given Penelope a heart attack. “What the hell happened?”

  Viktor, an ancient Viking warrior and force of his own to be reckoned with, narrowed his cobalt blue eyes. “I saved your woman from a Maaskab who was about to sift her away. That’s what happened.”

  “She is not mine. But the effort is appreciated. And do you happen to know where my sister is?”

  Viktor picked a piece of Scab hair from the leather sleeve of his long coat. “She went after the vamps in the van. Looked damned happy about it, too. Like she was going off to buy another Ginsu knife—how many As Seen On TV products does one goddess need, anyway?”

  Helena, Andrus, and Kinich exchanged glances before responding with spontaneous, synchronized shrugs.

  Viktor tossed the tiny clump in the wastebasket in the corner and shook his head. “Whatever. Point is—and I say this with all the vampire love in my cold, undead Viking heart—what the fuck, people! Did you not hear what I said? Obscuros? Maaskab? Together!”

  Kinich’s stomach lurched, rolled, burrowed deep underground, and then sprang out of a dark, dark hole.

  Uh-oh…

  He shifted his weight. Penelope was light as a feather cradled in his arms, but he instinctively wanted to hold her even closer. “We will leave for my desert retreat now. It is unsafe here.”

  “Cimil told us they’d unite,” Helena griped. “Maaskab. Obscuros. Someone will have to come up with a whole new name. Do you have any idea how hard that’s going to be?”

  Kinich raised a brow.

  Viktor chimed in. “I vote for Mocos. It means ‘boogers’ in Spanish.”

  Helena laughed hysterically. “Good one! Oh! Oh! I’ve got it!” Helena said raising her hand. “O’scabbies.”

  “Perfect. Yes, very good,” Viktor regarded her with the affection of a proud father.

  Andrus sighed and shook his head.

  Helena scoffed. “What? It was funny.”

  Andrus stared blankly.

  “Ugh! You’re no fun,” she protested. “Let’s see if a trip to Sedona with Kinich will wipe that smugness off your face. I know how much you love hanging with vamps and Uchben.”

  “Sedona?” Andrus said. “If Penelope is being hunted, you and the baby need to be as far away from her as possible. We stay here and let her go with Kinich.”

  Helena’s vampire eyes gleamed with hypnotic intensity. “I want to see Niccolo. We. Are. Going. To. Sedona.”

  “Like hell you are.” Niccolo’s large frame hovered in the entrance, his dark camouflage outfit and black hair, contrasting with the brilliance of his turquoise eyes—eyes that were once dark too, but had changed when his vampire days ended and he became a demigod.

  Helena’s face burst with joy. “Niccolo! Oh my god! I mean—oh my demigod! You’re here!”

  They shared a long, publically inappropriate kiss—tongues and hands flying everywhere. Once again, Kinich felt that same gnawing discomfort he’d had when in the presence of Emma and Guy.

  “Uh-hum!” Kinich cleared his throat, but the two did not stop for several awkward moments. He glanced at Andrus, whose ego had clearly deflated.

  Poor sap, still cares for the woman. You’ll never catch me degrading myself by pining for some female.

  When they finally broke their lip-lock, Kinich asked, “How did you arrive?” Being an ex-vampire, Niccolo was no longer able to sift.

  “Air Uchben. After your call last evening, I decided to check in on things.” Niccolo turned to Helena. “So you see, you aren’t going anywhere, my love.” Niccolo cupped both of Helena’s cheeks. “I am taking two days off and will spend them making your toes curl, followed by a long nap—yours, of course—during which time I will play with our little Matty and adorn her with kisses until you awaken.”

  Without so much as a glance in Andrus’s direction, he said, “You are on leave now, soldier.”

  As Andrus marched from the room, he snarled, “You’re welcome for my protecting your wife and child, Niccolo.” And by “Niccolo,” one could tell he meant “asshole.”

  He is very good at doing that, Kinich noted.

  “Well, this has been fun.” Kinich bowed his head. “Niccolo, if you are not opposed, I will take the Uchben jet to my sanctuary.”

  Niccolo glanced at Kinich and then at the dormant Penelo
pe in his arms. “Ah, Kinich. I’ve always wondered if boring someone to death was possible. I should have known you’d accomplish the task.”

  “So says the ex-vampire who wept like a baby at my sister’s feet, begging her to help him, and then ended up entombed in her piggy bank for three centuries.”

  “Vampires do not cry! Everyone knows that,” Niccolo replied.

  “Like a newborn baby, according to Cimil. She claims there are photos,” Kinich chuckled.

  “So says the Sun God, who has over a million hits on YouTube. The midgets were a nice touch, by the way. Your idea?” Niccolo said sharply.

  Dammit! He had no clue what YouTube was, but he’d throttle Cimil when he caught up with her!

  “Niccolo. Kinich!” Helena scolded. “Have your pissing match on someone else’s time.”

  “You are right, my little vampire. We must not waste a moment—it feels like there is a kickstand in my pants.” Niccolo pulled Helena into his body and began mauling her with his lips again.

  One of Kinich’s eyes ticked with annoyance. Time to leave.

  He turned toward the door still grasping Penelope in his arms, but Viktor prevented his speedy exit. “I’m coming to ensure you arrive safely. It is the least I can do after I failed you both.”

  Kinich admired Viktor’s sense of responsibility. “Very respectable of you, Viktor, but I am sure we will be—”

  “I insist.” Viktor’s eyes simmered with determination.

  Kinich gave it a moment’s thought. “Thank you,” he finally replied. He could not deny that having an extra set of skilled warrior hands would be useful, not to mention provide a distraction from Penelope. Kinich knew, without a doubt, he should not be left alone with the human; something about her was far too tempting.

  Was it her curvy, athletic body—the body of a female warrior? Perhaps her perfectly round ass? Those dark green eyes, satin-smooth skin, and sensual, soft lips? No. By far, her most tempting feature was her full, plump breasts with those little pink rosebud nipples. The gods themselves couldn’t conceive a more perfect set.

  Dammit. Pure temptation. Every goddamned last inch of her. Kinich ground his teeth with frustration.

  As soon as possible, he would find other arrangements for her safety. The world was teetering on a tumultuous precipice, and this distraction was the last thing he needed.

  CHAPTER 17

  When I woke this time—damn, I really needed to stop making this a habit—I was lost. I mean that in both the mental and physical senses of the word.

  For starters, I was lying on yet another giant, fluffy bed—do these people buy bulk and get a discount rate?— in the center of a spacious, bright room, surrounded by even fluffier burnt-orange pillows. The sandstone-colored walls displayed several headstone-size tablets with hieroglyphics, and on the nightstand, two clay figurines with Mayan headdresses stood back-to-back. Oddly, one resembled Nick, six-pack and all.

  At the far end of the room was a large panoramic window overlooking a never-ending stretch of rolling desert with the only green in sight being the impressive saguaro cacti. The gray, angry-looking clouds blanketing the sky were perforated by random beams of sunlight. Something about the way they shined on the desert floor made them seem like spotlights from heaven.

  I shook my head from side to side and eased myself from the bed. The clock on the wall said 7:00 a.m. I’d slept through the entire night, but noticed I still wore my karate gi.

  Well, that’s something. No one’s changed my clothes. This day might not turn out so bad.

  Wait. Your litmus test for a good day is that no one’s taken a gander at your privates while you slept?

  Hey, considering all of the other crap…Cringe.

  Memories, dark and disturbing, jackhammered my mind; a monster appearing out of nowhere, pulling me from Cimil’s cab—WTH, that woman really drove a cab?—the scummy-looking dudes in leather jackets pulling up in the black van—something was seriously wrong with them, like they’d forgotten their souls at home along with any sense of hygiene. And that man appearing right out of thin air. And— I sighed—“Nick…”

  “You called?”

  The sexiest male specimen I could ever hope to see, in this lifetime or the next, occupied a predominant percentage of the space inside the door frame. I didn’t know what made my girly bits more peppy, his sizzling smile—could melt my panties right off—or his deeply bronzed, hard chest and ripped abs or his…My eyes traveled toward the South Pole.

  Swoon alert! Don’t fall over. Don’t fall over…

  For heaven’s sake, the man wore nothing but a towel; nonetheless, my mind had no issue filling in the blanks. Or the uhhh…what’s the opposite of “blank”? ’Cause his man-treat was a far cry from a word defined as a void or a space. Space shuttle, yes. With supersized landing gear. And a glorious moon, right around the corner—firm, round, and solid as a rock.

  In any case, horny little space analogies aside, my body didn’t seem to give a hoot if my memory of that night with Kinich was fictional; as far as it was concerned, he’d rocked my world and it wanted another go.

  Stupid body.

  I swallowed, my mouth suddenly as barren as the desert outside. “Nick. Mind telling me how I got all the way to…?”

  “Sedona.” One corner of his mouth curled.

  Oh, that smile…

  “What was I saying?” I asked.

  He laughed.

  I amuse you, do I? That moved the needle from lusty fog to ticked off.

  He must have noticed the steam spewing from my ears, because he suddenly offered, “I will tell you everything. But first, let me hunt down some breakfast. You’ll need your strength for this.”

  “But I…”

  He turned and disappeared down the hall before I could protest.

  Well, great. I’m all gross and crusty, and the gorgeous, infuriating man wants to cook for me.

  “I’m taking a shower first!” I called out to an empty space.

  I surveyed the room for fresh clothes, surprised to discover my belongings from my overnight bag neatly stowed inside the walk-in closet that happened to be the size of my entire apartment back in New York.

  I grabbed a comfy pink tee, jeans, bra, and undies and scampered off to the attached bathroom, where my jaw dropped.

  “Holy deviled ham,” I whispered. It was exactly like the photos I’d seen in Cosmo—yes, yes. Right next to that article about the Orgasm Whisperer. I wanted to live in this bathroom. I wanted to die in this bathroom. I wanted to be this bathroom. Sunken Jacuzzi tub for four surrounded by fresh white candles, clear glass bowls filled with lavender bath salts, and bottles of infused oils; white wicker sitting area with a cappuccino machine and mini-fridge; and a shower big enough to bathe a small nation.

  Saints. Every girl deserves a bathroom like this.

  In two minutes flat the tub was filled—another amazing feature—and I lowered myself into the steaming-hot suds. The tips of my cold toes and the ache in my back melted away. The only thing missing was…

  Kinich.

  I’m hopeless.

  “So. That’s where you disappeared to.” His cocoa-brown face and shimmering turquoise eyes hovered over me.

  I sucked in a fortifying breath to keep from turning into a soggy little globule of neediness.

  Fact: He took my breath away. He created a vacuum in my mental atmosphere.

  Fact: I wanted this man. More than my date with five-star Mr. Bubble.

  Fact: Something about him wasn’t right, and I was about to find out why.

  Fiction: I was going to keep my cool.

  He observed the sudsy water rippling over my body, masking my bareness.

  “Sorry,” I said nervously. “I really missed my bathtub. And what a surprise! You have the exact same one as me.”

  Nick raised one brow.

  “Kidding.”

  “Oh.” He nodded. “I wondered how that might be possible. The tub was custom built by a man in Japan wh
o only accepts gold bullion as payment.”

  I flashed him a questioning frown.

  “That was a joke,” he said. “Who carries around gold bullion these days?”

  “Not me. Bullion is heavy. I prefer gold coins,” I said facetiously.

  “Exactly. So much easier to transport and hide.”

  Ummm…yeah.

  “I was about to get out,” I said. “So if you want to talk—”

  “Actually”—he raised his hands, encouraging me to stay put—“It might make what I have to say easier if you’re relaxed.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” My heart thumped away, doing a lowrider bass beat.

  “It is neither good nor bad; it simply is what it is.”

  Frankly, after all of the weirdness I’d endured, there was no explanation under the sun that could quell me into a state of buying “it simply is what it is.” That’s the sort of thing you’d say about having a big ass or freckles. You might even say that about a rainy day or ugly painting. But not this. No. Because whatever he was about to say, it had to be big. And weird.

  I poked the Jacuzzi button to turn off the jets. “I’m listening.”

  I’m freaking out.

  Nick cleared his throat, his piercing eyes vacillating between the deepest shades of green and aquamarine. “I’ve never had to tell a human this before, so bear with me.”

  “Hu—human?”

  So glad I peed before I got in the tub.

  Nick scratched his chin. His deep, rich-brown stubble, I then noticed, was slightly darker than his golden-streaked hair and thick caramel-colored eyelashes. God, he was gorgeous. It hurt just to look at him. Not that it would stop me.

  “No easy way to say this, I suppose,” his voice lowered one octave. “First, I want it made abundantly clear that I do not know why the Maaskab are after you. But I do intend to find out.”

  “What’s a Miskeeb?”